Save Me
by Magooke
Summary: Modern AU! With his younger brother, Desmond's, sudden and tragic death, Altair finds himself the guardian of his teenaged niece who is holding a grudge against him. Follow Altair as he tries to mend what's broken and learn why exactly his brother abruptly died. Alt/Mal, Altair/Malik Rated M for mature themes
1. Isobel Miles

**Hello once more everyone,**

**Sorry about my last story, again I wanted to continue it but I felt with how long it was on hiatus due to school and such it wouldn't have been a good idea. So I hoped that the Epilogue wrapped up everything, and if anyone is upset with the ending just drop me a message and I'll explain my methods. I wanted to keep close to the lore, so if you know what the lore is then you should have seen this kind of coming lol**

**As for this story, lemme make this clear since I got a couple of flames and there was some confusion...THIS IS NOT A ROMANCE. I don't want a single review talking about how it's an Ezio/OC or Ezio wouldn't go out with her, or even anything with Malik. Actually READ the story before you review, I don't mind criticism, I can take it well and might even openly discuss with you your critique that way I may improve my writing. But actually READ the story before you submit critique, all I ask.**

**I'll clear this up too: Desmond and Altair are brothers. Any other family lines shall be explained. And finally, yes, this is a reboot of 'Save Me'. Now finally, enjoy!**

_I hate airports,_ Isobel grumpily thought as she stayed in her seat while the other patrons leaped to their feet the moment the seat belt sign was removed and hurriedly reached for their luggage in the overhead compartments. It didn't help that Isobel hated people in general as well – some were just so annoying. Earlier when she had to get through airport security there were two people in front of her: a man who had almost every electronic possible in his bag that he had to take out of his bag, and then a woman who decided to wear every piece of jewelry she ever owned. Isobel had to pack up her entire home and move, and yet she seemed to be the only one that was able to pack a proper carry on, just a small back pack, and not wear any metal. What also annoyed her, was the fact that these people weren't even that important – if they were, they'd be flying some private jet or a non-commercial plane. They were more than likely flying economy, just like her, nobodies.

Once the rushes of people were no longer blocking the aisle, Isobel grabbed her back, it was just her and a couple of older couples who thought the same as her as she grabbed her bag and shimmied out of her seat and down the aisle. She was exhausted from traveling and was ready to crash the moment she got to her new home. She was wearing a baseball cap, her hood up and covering the cap as she made her way through the airport, hands shoved in her pockets as she walked through the airport – weaving around people who were simply strolling through the airport. She had only seen her Uncle once, when she was seven, and she barely remembered what he looked like, it wasn't like he ever came to visit her and her dad. She managed to get to baggage claim without killing anyone, though she tried to use the Force a couple of times and waited for her bags. People quickly stood in front of her (either not caring that she was there or not seeing her, something told her the former rather than the latter). She managed to politely move around, what looked like, a mother and snatch her duffle bag, and seeing her struggle to decide how to get her back and hold her infant, Isobel snatched up her suitcase as well and slid the handle out.

"Thank you," she smiled as she then gestured to another, "That pink one is mine to, could you..?"

"Of course," Isobel said, not minding as she pulled the suit case out.

A male voice came out of nowhere, "there you are, sorry I'm late." The two kissed briefly and then he turned to Isobel who probably looked like she was trying to take their suitcase.

"This nice young lady was just helping me, got my hands full," the baby cooed against his mother's chest and Isobel forced a smile as she pulled the handle up.

"Oh, thank you," he said smiling and taking both suitcases, "have a good one."

"You too," Isobel responded as she grabbed her duffle again and looked around for anyone that looked familiar or held a sign – nothing. Frowning, she checked her phone to be certain he hadn't texted or called. She didn't have a smart phone, like most people her age, her dad wasn't rich and he believed in hard work. But he did occasionally spoil her. Her phone had neither and so she took a look around a second time and still didn't see anyone familiar and so she headed for the doors, believing he might be waiting outside with the car. The cold, winter air bit at her and she shivered as her breath came out in a ghostly wisp. She hoped her Uncle knew that she had no winter clothes at all except for cotton jackets. Not seeing anyone familiar there either, she quickly rushed back inside, shivering as her teeth chattered and took a seat.

She decided to try his cell phone, but it immediately went to voice mail, "Leave a message." Was all he said with his thick accent before there was a loud 'beep'. Isobel hung up, not trusting herself – she'd more than likely curse him out. She took out her ear buds and her mp3 and played her own music as she rested her elbows on her knees, occasionally clicking her phone back on to examine if there was a phone call or text, but if either occurred she'd feel the vibration. Nothing happened for hours, eventually Isobel took up two seats so she could stretch out, back against the wall and staring out the frosted windows. She wished she could just get a taxi, but she had no money on her person, she was only fourteen.

"Isobel Miles," a voice suddenly said, she took out her ear bud, she had been playing her music on a rather low setting so she could hear if someone called her name. A man approached her, someone she had never met before and she eyed him warily, "Your Uncle sends his apologies, I'm with his company. I'll be taking you home."

Scoffing, Isobel grumbled an "unbelievable" before rising, grabbing her bag and gesturing for the man to lead the way. There was a car already outside, and he opened the trunk, taking her bag for her. She had moved around to the back, but he was there in an instant, opening the door for her. She thanked him, a bit thrown off, but eased into the back nonetheless as he shut the door behind her and then got into the driver's side and pulled into traffic. Heat was blasting, which she was grateful for as she held her numb fingers to a vent as she sniffled a bit from the cold and then quickly started texting one of her father's best friends.

**To: Ezio**

**In NYC. Uncle ddnt show.**

**Getting ride frm driver.**

Isobel looked out the window, but had barely set her phone down before phone vibrated, signaling that she had received a text.

**From: Ezio**

**A driver? Text or call me when you get to your Uncle's place. And then have your Uncle call me when you get home!**

**To: Ezio**

**I dnt think thats nec. Ezi.**

**mb he got bzy work?**

**From: Ezio**

**No excuses. Have him call me, Bella, or I will find his number. You know I have ways.**

Isobel smiled as he called her 'bella'. She used to correct him when he was little, not understanding that it was a different language, but now that she was older, it sometimes made her blush. Ezio was such a flirt, even if she was jail bait for the old man. She did know as well that if she didn't have her Uncle call Ezio, Ezio would find her Uncle's number. It was weird, but Ezio had ways that she didn't understand.

**To: Ezio**

**K fine.**

Was it wrong of her that she wished Ezio had adopted her instead of her Uncle? Ezio Auditore had been for as long as she could remember; every birthday, every recorder performance, he taught her how to swim out in the lake, and was there for every Christmas. There was only one event he missed, her middle school graduation (she smiled at the memory of her father grumbling about how she technically wasn't graduating anywhere because she was going straight to high school and didn't see the point of the matter – neither did she). Isobel found out later that it was because Ezio was in the hospital, he got hurt on the job and was really bad off. She finally saw him again at the fourth of July, and he did look a lot thinner, as many do right after a hospital visit. Isobel had asked what he did for a living and how he got hurt – he had deflected but she didn't think too much of it.

"We're here, madam," said the driver, a lot sooner than she had expected. She opened the door herself, but he grabbed the door and held it wide for her to exit. She eyed him warily before climbing out and then moving towards the trunk and waiting for him to open it for her. He did, but this time he grabbed her duffle bag and shooed her away. She scowled, but nonetheless obeyed, getting out of his way as he locked the car and led the way into the apartment complex. He nodded to the receptionist who greeted them before he moved towards the elevator, he pressed the up button and then waited, both entered, and this time he used a key, turned and pressed the twelfth floor. Silence fell between them as they went straight to the top and then entered one of the nicest penthouses Isobel had ever been in.

Isobel had actually never been in a penthouse, but she felt like she was entering Bruce Wayne's penthouse when he had to have his house reconstructed. Everything was clean and shiny, it wasn't hard to pick up on that her Uncle was a neat freak. There was a kitchen area that looked as though it had never been used, a graynite bar separated the kitchen from the living room. There were leather furniture and glass tables for the décor of the living room, a large television resting against the wall directly in front of the couch. Straight across from the main door were large balcony windows that had curtains to be drawn if necessary, and then a hallway leading off to somewhere and another door, which was closed. "Thanks, um…I hope my Uncle has paid you already, I have no money on-"

"Do not worry about it, ma'am, he did insist you make yourself at home in your bedroom and that he will be home as soon as possible," the man said, and with a goodbye, he turned and left, heading down the elevator and leaving Isobel alone in the overly clean apartment.

Opening the fridge for a drink, she found it completely empty except for a couple of takeout left overs – her Uncle was definitely a bachelor, which was rather obvious. She sighed her annoyance, silently cursing her Uncle before she moved towards the large balcony glass doors out of curiosity. Her Uncle had a wonderful view of the New York skyline, though he might not have noticed it – Isobel picked up on the haze of pollution that seemed to linger above the city and slowly float into the atmosphere. She twisted her face in dislike before turning away and looking to explore the apartment. Unable to contain her curiosity, she immediately moved towards the closed door and tried to open it, but found that it was locked. She pouted in disappointment before searching for a key on the door frame and even doing so around the living room, but no key was found so she headed towards the hallway instead with one last curious glance towards the door. The hallway had four doors, all of which were closed. She reached for the first one to find this one was occupied, it was obviously her Uncle's bedroom and it was completely messy – like a bomb had gone off in his room. Raising an eyebrow, she turned to the prestine clean living room and then glanced once more towards his bedroom in complete bafflement before closing the door. She noted that he had his own bathroom, which she was happy about, because it meant she didn't have to share a bathroom. Continuing down the hallway, the next two doors showed to be a linen closet and a washroom upon inspection, and then finally the door at the very end of the hall, the door facing the hallway, was her bedroom – it looked like. The furniture was new, there was no dust on the furniture at all (and if her Uncle's room was any indication, he wasn't one for dusting, let alone cleaning) and had already been situated in the room, there was a dark blue comforter and sheets on the bed, and by the way they were tucked in they looked like they might have been her Uncle's old dorm sheets. Isobel eased herself onto the bed, dropping her duffle bag on the floor before flopping back on the bed and staring at the ceiling, her eyelids slowly grew heavier until sleep finally gripped her.

"I can't believe you forgot about her," a voice woke up Isobel from her sleep, he was speaking in a normal tone, but the annoyance was clear in his voice as he moved around his flat.

She rubbed her eyes tiredly as she heard another respond, "I didn't forget about her. I had a driver pick her up- ow! Will you stop hitting me."

"You're right, I shouldn't destroy whatever brain cells you have left," the first voice still berated the other, "you should have left work early and picked her up!"

"What would be the point of that- Malik, I'm going to break your only arm if you strike me again," warned the second voice.

The one named Malik was silent for a moment, Isobel rose from her bed and moved towards the hallway, she realized he was whispering though and as she neared she could hear him more closely, "…your niece whom you haven't seen in a long time shows up to New York on her own and you don't meet her at the airport? Altair-"

"That's something else I haven't told you about…I haven't seen her since she was five…"

"What!"

Isobel decided to make herself known as she stepped out of the hallway, her heart dropped at the sight of her Uncle – she knew very well it was her Uncle as well as he looked exactly like his father. Short, dark hair (she wondered if it curled as well when he didn't cut it short), a round face though her Uncle's face was cold and emotionless where as her father's had always been warm and happy. There build was similar as well, wide shoulders with a large chest in between, but her Uncle was muscle and large, where as her father had been lean but slouchy as well. His eyes were the large striking difference between the two, her father's had been a chocolate brown, but his were a hazel, gray color. She felt like she was being scrutinized under that gaze, and she met his gaze with a glare, one that she could only hope showed all of her anger and hatred towards him.

"Isobel," Altair said, was there a look of relief on his face, "how was the flight?"

"Flight was fine, it was the wait at the airport that was annoying," Isobel said evenly, but the ice that came from her words seemed to lower the temperature in the entire apartment as Altair shot a glare and then tried to play it off.

"I'm sorry, I got busy at work. I thought your flight landed at three," he said simply.

Isobel didn't let up though, "if only you had been the one that bought my ticket and thus received my itinerary." Sarcasm now drooled from her words, like a viper's venom that even had Malik raising both eyebrows. Altair's fist clenched though and Isobel couldn't help but look satisfied at getting under his skin.

The man closest to her cleared her throat, she assumed him to be called Malik, and he spoke up, "forgive him, it was an honest mistake." Isobel found herself glaring at him as well as he defended her Uncle, but she said nothing more on the matter, "Are you hungry? Sadly we're used not used to having a child in the house, I know our cupboards are empty. We'll go grocery shopping tomorrow."

"Water would be nice," Isobel said grumpily, she had doubted that the man could come through, but sure enough he produced a water bottle from the bag of, what smelled like, Chinese food and she eagerly took it and drank, finding that she liked Malik. "Thanks," she said, her voice sounding grudging that she had to be grateful to either of them as she greedily drank, her parched mouth happily removed itself of the cotton mouth feeling at the taste of water and Isobel forced herself not to chug the water down.

Malik smiled his approval and then started cleaning up – so he was the reason why the place was so clean, "So, Isobel, Altair's told me that you are interested in rock climbing."

Isobel was grateful that he didn't say anything about her father, many liked to apologize for her loss or say that they had hoped they were meeting on better circumstances. Malik seemed to be able to tell what topics to avoid and immediately avoided her father. Isobel stole a glance at Altair who was currently watching the exchange with a wary gaze, but when he caught Isobel's gaze he grumbled something, grabbed his work bag and then moved towards his bedroom. "Yes, I was working to free soloing," Isobel explained.

A whistle of amazement passed Malik's lips as he said, "that's very impressive for…forgive me, I didn't catch your age."

"Thirteen," Isobel stated simply.

"Ah, so you shall be starting high school in the fall," Malik stated simply, his mind immediately racing, Isobel could practically see cogs turning as he produced food from the bag and then tossed it to the side, "well we'll eventually have to check out high schools as well and find one that suits you. Altair nor I-"

"We," Isobel asked confused.

Malik paused and looked at her, "Oh…you don't know," the man's face suddenly flushed as he seemed to stammer and it was the first time Isobel had seen him look a bit awkward. Isobel had a feeling that he didn't get flustered often.

Altair returned to the room and got out bowls, "he's my boyfriend." He had said it so bluntly that Malik dead panned and scowled at Altair, who merely shrugged, "what? She'd figure it out eventually. You being in my room and all."

Isobel watched Malik flush as he sat at the bar, Altair stood while eating and Isobel decided to take a seat as Malik offered her food, but she merely shook her head, "Not hungry, thank you."

"When was the last time you ate," Altair asked, raising an eyebrow as he popped a piece broccoli into his mouth.

"When was the last time you cared," she snapped right back.

The two glared at one another and Malik tensed at the two, Altair opened his mouth, prepared to yell, Malik knew and quickly cut in. "_Your Uncle tells me you speak Arabic as well,_" Malik said fluently and evenly.

Isobel finally tore her gaze away and responded a bit slowly, but with a surprisingly good accent, "_Yes. My father taught me, he'd speak to me in Arabic all the time,_" he watched her word her sentence again silently and nod that she had gotten it right, obviously she hadn't spoken it much. There was a lull in the conversation where no one said anything for a bit and Isobel finally asked, "What do you to do?"

The two had been prepared for this question and had already agreed on how they would respond, "Human contractors," both said together, Altair then filled in, "a lot of boring paperwork, but occasionally we may have to go on business trips."

He merely received a glare from Isobel once more and she watched him glare right back, obviously having enough of her anger, but she spoke before he could snap at her, "may I be excused?"

Malik blinked and then saw Altair's expression and quickly said, "yes." Isobel hopped off the bar stool and moved quickly towards her bedroom, closing the door behind her and laying on her new bed, in her new room, in her new home, with a stupid new guardian. _Why did you have to go?_ Isobel asked as she felt a wave of tears struggle to be released but she tried to hold them back to the best of her abilities.

**I hope you enjoyed, as you saw this chapter was all in Isobel's perspective and I think I'll keep to it like that. So the next chapter may have a bit of insight or flashbacks of the next characters perspective, but furthering the story as well. Leave a review!**


	2. Malik Al-Sayf

**Hello all! Thank you for the reviews! Constructive criticism is highly encouraged and enjoy! 3**

Work was forever like high school, there were the popular kids and then everyone else. The popular kids in this case being the assassins, they never had to do paper work, possibly fill out an incident report or scroll their signature on a parchment to either accept an assignment or when saying whether or not it was successful or not. Other than that, all they did when they arrived at work, even if they arrived late, was training. Sometimes they goofed around even doing that, instead of doing strenuous work outs, they played games such as volleyball, soccer, or basketball. And then there was everyone else; Malik looked at the assassins with a look of longing behind his desk, many assassins had been relieved of their duty and stuck doing paperwork, a human contractor of sorts for the company. Malik sighed as he continued clicking away at his computer, typing out reports with his hand, able to do it fluently with one hand due to practice over the months.

"You know, you could still join us, we're going to play soccer," Altair's voice didn't even make him jump, his senses still keen and sharp from his training when he was an assassin.

Malik frowned, "you know I can't."

"I know you can, we play all the time in the park," Altair said, lowering his voice towards the end of his sentence as Malik was still sensitive about it.

Malik blushed a bit before saying, "I just have a lot of paperwork to get through, Altair. Maybe some other time." It was a lie; it was the same lie that was said every time Altair asked if he wanted to play some sort of game with them. It was also the same lie he gave when Altair asked how work was at the end of the day, Malik would say he simply caught up with paperwork. Glancing at the clock though, Malik frowned as he said, "what about your niece? She lands at-"

"Don't worry, it's taken care of," Altair gave a dismissive wave.

"Altair-" Malik began to mock but someone slammed a folder on his desk making him jump in surprise.

The person in the cubicle next to him gestured to the folder, "mind looking over that for me? It's about the last mission in the Mediterranean." Malik nodded and then turned his attention back to Altair, but saw that the man was already gone. He sighed and decided to get to work, not wanting to give Altair the chance to tell him he didn't look busy. He logged out of the word document where he had just been typing aimlessly and got to work on the latest report that was now on his desk.

"She's horrible," Altair growled in obvious frustration, Malik didn't bat an eyelash as he continued cleaning. Altair had quite a temper on him, even Malik was a bit shocked when he found out that Altair was taking custody of his niece. He had very little patience and thus a short fuse, so it wasn't a new occurrence to see his lover clearly upset, annoyed, frustrated, or anything about something. It usually retained to work though, now it was happening with someone he was responsible for, and Malik could only imagine the sort of loss of control that he was feeling. "Where does she get off talking to me like that?" He shouted the question, well it seemed like a shout since he said it in a normal volume and the silence of the house seemed to make it be louder than before.

"Quiet down," Malik hissed, eyeing their closed door as he glared and finished refolding shirts that Altair had messily tossed into the drawers. It was obvious he was worried, cleaning being a nervous habit. "She's confused, Altair. Give her time-"

Altair angrily pulled off his shirt and tossed it next to the hamper that was on the floor, Malik scowled before giving up cleaning and treating his own shirt the same, only making it into the hamper, "what was my brother thinking? I was barely able to take care of him when we were little! We were on the streets for God knows how long," Malik stayed silent, knowing he was really frustrated if he was willing to bring up his past so openly. Altair never spoke about his rough childhood, Malik was curious as to what happened as he caught little bits such as this when Altair was on an angry rant, but never the whole story. "I can't do this Malik – I should find someone who can properly care for her."

Malik frowned as he watched the other brush his teeth angrily before moving towards him to stand behind him in the mirror, "I know you're frustrated with her. But try to be patient Altair. Dumping her with a stranger will only cause problems for her; she's clinging onto the fact that you're family."

"Family doesn't treat family like shit," Altair said in a muffled voice through his toothpaste as he angrily scrubbed at his teeth.

"She's hurt-" "WHY are you on her side," Altair demanded, spitting out toothpaste. Malik rolled his eyes as he washed his mouth out of the toothpaste, "I'm not on her side, I'm not on anyone's side. I'm simply trying to help you understand. I have an idea of what she is going through."

Altair glanced at the angry, light pink, scarred flesh of his exposed left shoulder. It made Malik feel uncomfortable as he fidgeted underneath that guilty gaze. He quickly left the bathroom in an attempt to stay hidden. He then proceeded to pull on a sweatshirt even though it was decently warm in the apartment. He couldn't take that gaze though, the look of guilt as though it was his fault. Someone could say that it was Altair's fault, in the assignment it had been him that had gotten Malik and his late younger brother, Kadar caught. But he hadn't done it on purpose; he had made a mistake any assassin could have made, yet still Altair insisted on punishing himself every day. Was being with Malik a punishment? Some sort of guilt driving him to stay with Malik? The thought stung and he waited for Altair to finish in the bathroom before doing his own business. When he entered the room, Altair was playing on his phone and on his side of the bed, the side closest to the door. Malik turned off the lights and took barely a second to allow his eyes to adjust to the darkness before he maneuvered around the room and to his side of the bed with ease and slid in. "Good night," Altair said with a yawn, pulling the covers up to his shoulder and sliding close to Malik.

"Good night." Though he knew that the night would be anything but nice.

_The heat was familiar to Malik, after all Syria had been his home before he had travelled to the United States. The dry heat that seemed to lay over the land like a lazy giant was familiar and didn't bother Malik too much, Altair on the other hand was constantly getting annoyed with the heat as the three stayed inside their hideout. Altair wanted nothing more than to jump into a fountain that could be seen just outside the window, it tempted him like a moth drawn to a flame he had constantly compared as he gazed upon the water, but it was crucial that they were not seen and so the three were forced to attempt to ignore the fountain as they readied for the right time to move. They wouldn't leave until night fall, the temperature dropping severely to the point where it felt as though it should snow, but the air still felt and tasted dry with every inhale and exhale. It would be during the night when they would finally make their move, the moon and the stars being their only guide as they moved fluidly through a dry desert and up towards Masyaf castle._

_The small bushes were dry from desert, it was a miracle they were even green, but they easily snapped off and branches cracked when stepped upon – making it difficult for the trio to keep the element of surprise if anyone were there. Instead of going through the entrance, they climbed the ruins of what used to be a majestic castle; Malik went first as he was the oldest and most experienced though Altair grumbled about how he could climb it much faster. He made certain that no one was around and then gestured for Kadar and Altair to climb up as well. For a moment no one believed anyone was there as they jumped calmly down the wall and through an old courtyard, entering the castle, but the moment they were inside they heard voices and all three immediately took places; Altair scaling a pillar and sitting on a beam out of eyesight, Malik whipped behind a book case, and Kadar moved under some sort of desk._

_The three listened as the voices grew nearer…_

"_Why is Sable so paranoid, it's annoying," one was questioning._

"_It keeps him alive doesn't it?" Responded the other with a chuckle of amusement at the first's obvious irritation._

_The other spat on the ground and said, "The assassins aren't even here, we kept a watch on the city and there was no movement against us. So why be paranoid?"_

_It seemed laying low had worked; no one realized that they were here. They heard the other guard brush him off as one went to guard the entrance of the castle and one moved towards the courtyard entrance to watch the back of the castle. Malik peered around the corner cautiously and what he saw made his heart drop – Kadar was under the desk, one turn from the guard in the back and he'd be seen! But before Malik could make a move, Altair had already sprang into action, he dropped on the man, hands grasping his head. The man only let out a gasp which was muffled by one of the hands before Altair yanked his head at an unnatural angle. The way Altair had dropped to the ground, hands and feet poised to grab his head and drop on his back – he looked like some sort of bird of prey. Altair quickly turned, a throwing dagger in his fingertips ready to throw at the other guard, but he didn't stir and merely continued to gaze upon the entrance._

_Altair grabbed the body and stowed it behind the book case with Malik, gave him a pat on his left shoulder and then moved towards Kadar. It would be the last gentle touch to his left arm he'd ever feel, and he never thought too much about it._

_The two followed Altair quietly down the steps and through a door on the ground floor that the two guards had come from. Once they were a safe distance, Malik grabbed Altair, "we should abandon the plan, you heard what they said – Sable is here."_

"_But they don't know we're here – we have the element of surprise," they were whispering softer than the wind, but still their voices seemed to echo to them to the point where they constantly paused to listen to movement, but only ringing of silence came._

"_They might have the Apple already, we shouldn't stay," Malik insisted._

_Altair glared, "our mission is to retrieve the Apple, and if we are to kill some Abstergo's along the way? What's the matter with that?"_

_Malik paused, frowning and mauling it over as Kadar looked between the two anxiously, "I don't like it Altair, it's too risky."_

"_Then we shall leave it to your brother, he'll be the tie breaker," Malik rolled his eyes at that suggestion. Kadar looked up to Malik as any younger brother should, but Altair always managed to outshine Altair. It started a rivalry between the two and cause d for Kadar to idolize Altair just as much as he did Malik if not more. Malik knew his answer before he even said it._

_Still, his younger brother had the decency to look guilty as he looked between the two before finally nodding to Altair in silent agreement. Malik couldn't help but show his frustration with a scoff and grumbling an, "Of course." Altair held no decency to hide his smug before he turned and led the way through the old pathway._

"_Ah Assassins, I should've known you'd show up," Sable suddenly said once they had turned yet another hallway._

"_Sable!" Altair said and charged._

_Malik let him, and he saw the string too late, "Altair! No-" Something exploded right beside him and Kadar, the two went flying, rubble colliding into them painfully as they entered the hallway on the other side and Malik felt completely dazed. He heard some sort of fight and yelling as he laid there, ears ringing and head throbbing with his heart beat in pain. There was a pressure on his chest, and as he finally came to, he realized it was rubble. Something was also a dull throb in his left shoulder. He wasn't certain how long he lay there, but as he heard footsteps, he turned to see shiny, black shoes moving towards him. A hand suddenly shot out through the rubble, Malik's dazed gaze looked at the hand in wonder as Kadar pulled himself out of the rubble, and he looked terrible. Blood slid down his face._

"_I only need one to be a messenger…" Sable's voice mused to himself, there was a click of a gun. The barrel pressed to his head, all Malik could do was watch. He begged his mind to shut down, to look away, to black out, anything but watch what he knew would fall upon his brother. But he was still hypnotized as he stared at his brother who spat blood on those shiny red shoes…the blood was soon followed by brain as well and Malik's voice screaming in his head._

_NO_, Malik bit his bottom lip hard as to avoid shouting in pain as he tried to rise as calmly as possible and move into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. His face was sprinkled with sweat; he tried to even his shuddering breaths, and most of all he tried to block out the painful throb of his shoulder, pulsating pain throughout his entire body. He took a deep breath, gritting his teeth to bite back the pain. _You're not there, leave me the Hell alone,_ Malik pleaded in his mind, popping a pain medicine and swallowing it down. Deciding to grab some water since he was up, he padded back into the room, looked to Altair who was knocked out; the only place seemed to be able to sleep like a log was Malik's apartment, their apartment now. He moved to the kitchen, his steps trained in silent as he quietly grabbed a glass and poured himself some water. He hadn't turned on any lights, not wanting to disturb anyone, as he turned to face the living room when movement to his right, the bedrooms, caught his attention.

Isobel had left her room, she was in pajama pants and a long sleeved shirt that Altair had given her when he saw her shivering; she poked her head into his and Altair's bedroom. The way she looked reminded Malik of a small child, wanting to crawl into bed with her parents but not having the heart to, wanting to be invited or told to. She suddenly moved, her footsteps were not concealed and he could hear her moving to the front door. He didn't move – it would be weird now if he revealed himself. He didn't know what she was doing, but she then returned to the living room, moving to the windows and doing something. He watched her carefully as she went to each window and… _She's checking the locks,_ Malik realized as she grabbed the patio doors and tried them, making certain they were locked as well. She held herself for a moment, looking at the locked windows then to the locked door, finally she moved down the hall, returning to her bedroom. Malik waited a couple more minutes, wanting to be certain that she was no longer moving around before returning to his own bedroom. The pain now a dull throb and no longer a mind numbing pain; he slid back into bed, Altair only stirring to move a bit and once more get comfortable but not waking.

The next day was rather busy, rather than relaxing and enjoying each other's company. Malik and Altair took Isobel to look at a private school, she showed zero interest, even when explained there was a rock climbing club. On the tour while Malik and Altair were impressed with the school and landscape, Isobel simply kicked at a rock and examined her nails. "Maybe she should just go to a public school, we're practically paying for a college in order for her to go to a private school," Malik scowled as he flipped through a pamphlet, a price that they could pay but the cost was rather high for schooling.

"I'd feel safer knowing she was going to a private school," argued Altair as he drove through traffic towards the mall.

"Do I get a say in where I go," Isobel finally spoke, her gaze was staring out the window, she was wrapped up in Altair's coat while the other two were in thin long sleeved shirts.

Altair glanced at her in the rearview mirror, "Yes…unless you want to go to a public school. Then no."

A scoff was Altair's only response and a mere chuckle from Malik as he finished looking through the pamphlet and put it on the dash. The two then went to the mall where Malik and Altair took her to stores to buy winter clothing, she didn't seem too interested in shopping but knew it was necessary so endured. She wasn't like most women who took their time and wanted to see everything, whether that was because of the depression or normality was up for debate. She went to something she liked, tried it on and if she liked it got multiple ones in different colors, if she didn't she tossed it out and went to something else. She was done once she went to one store and Malik felt that it was the easiest trip ever and hoped that her shopping was a habit and no due to disinterest in everything. Lastly they went grocery shopping so there was real food in the house, as the two men were so used to just ordering takeout and not worrying about eating healthy due to their active nature. Malik was just a paper pusher at work but he still went to work early with Altair every day to run on the treadmill or swim laps.

Malik had honestly thought that upon Isobel's arrival that Altair would completely change, that Malik would be second in Altair's eyes and Isobel would be first. Maybe she was, but Altair was yet to physically or emotionally show it, but it wasn't as though Isobel was giving him much of a chance to do so. So when he got an email from their company that he was going to California for a business meeting, Malik was enthusiastic that maybe without him there a bond could be formed….but he was also anxious, as he could return to a destroyed house and two beings that hated each other more than anything in the world.

"Don't leave me here alone with her," groaned Altair, "take her with you!"

"Altair, think about what you just asked me," Malik scowled at his boyfriend. He watched Altair take a moment to think about it, before giving Malik a look and a sort of shrug that basically told Malik that he didn't care nor did he think the idea of Isobel traveling with a stranger was completely crazy, "I have no relation to her! That would be crazy."

"Then take us with you," Altair bargained.

"Don't you have that assignment Thursday," Malik asked.

Altair let out a groan as though just reminded, "Don't leave me here. I might kill her. You would risk her life?"

"You won't kill her," Malik stated matter-of-factly, he was packing his bag as they spoke as he'd be leaving Monday so he wanted his things packed early and set aside. Altair pouted at him, Malik smiled before kissing him gently, "you're cute when you pout."

"So you shall stay," Altair asked, hopeful.

Malik gave him a charming smile that made Altair's face brighten more so with certainty, "no." Malik almost felt cruel for teasing him so, almost. The look of devastation was delicious, which quickly turned into a scowl as he crossed his arm and flopped back on the rest of the bed, glaring at the ceiling. Malik laughed making Altair growl at Malik with annoyance, "Go check on your niece." Altair gave yet another scowl towards Malik before leaving the shared bedroom and going down the hallway to do as he was told. As he heard the soft murmuring of voices, Malik couldn't help but pray, though he wasn't much of a religious man, that his lover would grow closer to his niece during his absence and she the same.

**So I know it's short and sort of a filler, and I know it has been such a long time since I've last posted! But for whatever reason fanfiction doesn't send me my reviews through my email anymore. So I believe my story has little/no interest and then just kind of stop. Plus I have to be in a certain mood to write these depressing chapters, but I'm working on the next one immediately!**


	3. Isobel

In only two of her classes did Isobel want to just melt into a puddle and disappear; her first one being Home Room. They met for fifteen minutes every day, it was like having five minutes of counseling and then ten minutes of just texting on a cell phone or catching up on the latest gossip. Her home room instructor, Mr. Parks, forced her to stand in the front and introduce herself while he advised some of the other students; he had records on all of them and so would speak with them individually on a weekly basis about school and sports or clubs they were interested in.

"My name is Isobel Miles…I moved here from Arizona," she had stood in the front explaining, "and I've never been to New York before." She wasn't quite certain what was interesting about her, but she was thankful when she was allowed to take her seat again. Sadly Mr. Parks wasn't the only one to make her endure such humiliation as public speaking, Isobel had two classes where she was saved the embarrassment before another problem arrived. The cafeteria at lunch, she had packed a lunch so thankfully she didn't have to gamble with the food, but she wasn't certain where to sit. She remembered looking around at all the tables that seemed to be crowded with cliques, some looked to her curiously as she was the new girl. Isobel ate her lunch in homeroom with Mr. Parks who nervously talked too much and asked her questions that she would give short answers to.

Physical Education was her last torture of the day, not just because the school was forcing her to do sports she had no interest in and parade around in a t-shirt and girl shorts, but because the physical education teacher, Mrs. Gellar forced her to stand in front of the entire class and once more present herself to the class. She was completely uncomfortable, especially since there were a couple of girls in her class from previous classes that were giggling in the background and whispering to one another. Isobel tried to comfort herself that she was just paranoid and that they weren't talking about her at all, but she couldn't ignore the slight glances and nods towards her. And if that didn't affirm that the small clique was judging and hating on her, the fact that she was brutally attacked during volleyball with various spikes told her enough.

"How was your first day of school," Altair had asked her once he had gotten home from work. He was met with silence and daggers glaring at him with such hatred that he dropped the subject altogether.

The next day didn't serve to be much better, Altair rode the subway with his niece every morning and took her to school before going to work himself. "Alright, have a good day at school," Altair said as he walked her to the front gates.

"Whatever," Isobel sighed and started to walk before Altair grabbed at her arm.

"Hey, I know high school may seem important now, but the school is just full of jerks. Don't let them get to you…and talk to me," Altair said.

Isobel gave the nicest smile she could muster as she said sweetly, "if they're such jerks, you'd feel right at home, wouldn't you?"

With that, she turned on her heel and entered her school without a glance behind her towards Altair. _Your father would be disappointed in you…he didn't raise you like this, _Isobel arrived at home room on time, learning that her school did block schedules that consisted of classes changing every day. Wednesday changed every week so there was an even amount of time going to Monday/Thursday classes as there were going to Tuesday/Friday classes. So yesterday while she had English 1, Orchestra 1, lunch, and Physical Education, today she had Science 1, History 1, lunch, and then Math 1. Sadly she was late to her Science class as she had gotten a bit lost, the teacher had introduced her briefly and then paired her with a small group of three that was missing a fourth person.

"Hi, I'm Katie," a brunette said as soon as the teacher finished giving instruction and left us to complete the experiment on our own.

"Hi, Isobel," Isobel introduced with a smile of greeting.

A boy sitting across from her introduced himself next, "I'm Ryan, and this is Yvonne. Where'd you move here from?"

"Arizona," Isobel responded as she fiddled with her pencil, wanting to just get the experiment done and over with but uncertain on how to convey that without sounding completely rude.

Yvonne was already working on the assignment, she didn't seem to talk too much and Isobel eagerly scooted her seat a bit closer to Yvonne so that they could work on it together, since there was only one set of tools per group, "what caused you to fly across the continent?" Ryan asked curiously, fiddling with one of the weights that Yvonne seemed to be eyeing.

Isobel grabbed the weight from Ryan and handed it to Yvonne who gave Isobel an appreciative smile, "moved in with my Uncle." Isobel was starting to feel a bit uncomfortable, she returned her focus to the experiment at hand.

It seemed Katie caught on as she too changed the subject, "well, welcome and you arrived just in time for the Winter Ball! Would you like to join the planning committee?"

"Uh..no, I'm good," Isobel said, a bit startled by the sudden invite.

"Oh come on," Katie said with a smile, "it seems lame, but it's totally cool. And then you can help with the Freshman Formal as well!" When Isobel looked doubtful still yet, Katie resorted to begging, "Please? All the cool people are in it."

Glancing at the table with the beautiful girls that had giggled at her all day yesterday, Isobel asked, "And who are these 'cool' people."

"Us of course," Katie said with an exasperated tone, she reached across the table to touch her, but Isobel jerked away. Katie didn't let this falter her, "C'mon, you get to go for free too."

Isobel inhaled deeply before finally nodding, "okay."

"Yes," Katie high fived Ryan enthusiastically, and then looked behind Isobel just as she was shoved in her seat.

A far too sweet voice gave an "oops" and Isobel turned to see exactly who it was. It was the blonde from earlier, her hair was pencil straight, but it looked like a wall of white gold and framed her actual square face wonderfully. She looked flawless and as though she should've been an upper classmen rather than a freshman. There was one girl with her, though the two at her table were watching the exchange. Her friend had light, brown skin that made her look almost like Beyoncé with those large hazel eyes and springy, brown curls that she let fall in almost an afro.

"Its fine," Isobel tried to ignore the situation, turning back in her seat. But by the way the hairs on the back of her neck raised, she knew for a fact that the girl hadn't left.

"Where's your scarf," this question was out of the blue.

Isobel turned back towards her, "excuse me?"

"We saw your dad drop you off, you two look like terrorists," she stated matter of factly, running a hand through her hair. Isobel closed her mouth tightly, turning away from her as she flexed her jaw in annoyance and tried to go back to the experiment, "is that how you afford private school? You threatened the principal?"

"Better than having my mother spread her legs, you uncultured swine," Isobel roared, unable to hold her temper, rising and whirling on the girl so fast that someone might have gotten whip lash.

"Miss Miles! Outside, right. Now." Ordered her instructor, Ms. Taylor, and Isobel obeyed as she went outside and stood there, arms folded in anger.

A few minutes later, Ms. Taylor came out, looking quite upset with Isobel as she scolded her student. Isobel simply took it, if she had learned anything it was that talking back only made matters worse with adults and adults tended not to listen or find teenager's issues trivial. What made adults so special anyways? Just a number, Isobel determinedly listened as the teacher gave her detention at lunch and told her that this time it would go without other consequences, but the next time Isobel disrupted the teacher's class with such vulgar words that her parents would be called.

Isobel didn't say anything the rest of the class even though her group mates said that they would talk to Ms. Taylor, and when Isobel denied them that they said they would speak with Heather, the ring leader of the clique that seemed to have it out for the new girl, Isobel denied this as well, worried it might back fire.

Nothing special happened during History, it was the one class she was free from Heather and her gang. Lunch she fulfilled her detention, which consisted of her wiping down Ms. Taylor's white board and cleaning petri dishes. In Math she showed her instructor that she had already taken Algebra, she even took a test during class which Heather was in and aced it. Rather than keep her stuck in Math 1, her instructor told her to go to the office and have her placed in Math 2. She was called a nerd by Heather on her way out as she left.

"How was school today," Altair asked.

Isobel was doing her Math 2 homework as she shot Altair yet another glare. Altair was just about to give up on speaking with her as he made a pizza for the two when he heard her say, "I'm on the formal planning committee."

"That's good," Altair praised, smiling at her, "making any friends?"

Once more there was a long pause, Altair didn't rush her even though he wanted to sigh in impatience as she finally gave a shrug, "I guess."

Altair didn't argue that he found it odd that she could only guess that she had friends, isn't that something you either did have or didn't have?

The next day was Wednesday, Isobel had the same classes that she did yesterday and Altair hadn't been able to take her to school as he had to arrive to work early. He explained that he wouldn't be home that night either and would be home very late on Thursday but would still be there on Friday to take her to school. Mr. Parks gave her a brief scolding for getting detention yesterday but congratulated her on being placed into Math 2, which was mostly Geometry. Isobel then went to her locker once the bell rang for a ten minute passing, she had just made it to her locker when she was shoved into it, bag and books falling.

"Oops," that fake voice said once again, Isobel reached for her bag but someone kicked it out of reach and so Isobel rose and glared at Heather, "where's your father? Didn't see him drop you off today, is he off on a suicide bombing? Good-"

She didn't get the next word out as she was suddenly punched, Isobel's fist connecting with her cheek, close to her eye. Isobel let out a grunt as she ignored her throbbing hand as there was an echoed gasp and Heather stumbled with the punch. Heather let out a yell of rage and then went to scratch Isobel, but the other was quicker as she grabbed Heather's wrist and twisted it, forcing Heather to twist with her arm, or risk letting Isobel break it before she shoved Heather away. Heather turned, this time her friends had grabbed Isobel and Heather scratched her cheek, Isobel hissed before she yanked herself free from Heather's bodyguards and rushed her but before she could do anymore damage to Heather, a strong arm was wrapped around her abdomen and Isobel was pulled away from Heather.

By the condition Heather was in, Isobel's story didn't fit as she was already accused of being the bully instead of the bullied. She was told to calm down, though Isobel was her usual stoic and quiet self, silently raging at Heather and her words. After the Principal gave her quite a talking to, Altair was called much to Isobel's dismay and Isobel was forced to sit in the front office while the Principal spoke with Heather and her parents, the latter were roaring for Isobel to be expelled from the school as they yelled about the condition that her daughter was in. Isobel couldn't help but give a smug smirk when Heather walked into the front office to go into the principal's office with her parents, her eye was already swollen and she was sniffling.

Altair entered the front office thirty minutes after he was called, not looking the least bit amused or calm as he moved towards Isobel who immediately straightened in her chair, "why the Hell am I getting called from work to come pick you up because you _punched_ another student? Hm?" Isobel was ready to defend herself, but Altair didn't seem ready to listen as he went on, "It better be a damn good reason, because I was pulled away from something that was _very_ important! It is the _third_ day of school Isobel and already you have gotten detention – yeah they told me," he growled at her surprised look, "and now you just might be expelled! You go in that office right now and apologize."

"I will _not_ apologize to her," growled Isobel, snatching her bag and walking away from Altair, heading towards the front doors. Altair was hot on her heels and she barely made it to the doorway when he grabbed her arm.

"Young lady, you have been a pain in my ass since you've gotten here," Altair snapped, "You have been disrespectful, rude, and for no-"

"No reason," Isobel yelled, it echoed down the hallway as she glared at him, "how about the fact that out of nowhere, I have to be stuck with _you_."

This time she made it out of the door before Altair grabbed at her again, "Stop walking away from me! What is that supposed to mean?"

"You have _never_ been there. And then suddenly I have to live with you? You didn't care about us, about my father, your brother," Isobel yelled, everything just coming out of her mouth like word vomit as tears sprang to her eyes.

"Don't you say that," Altair growled, "you don't know that."

"I do too," Isobel's voice was cracking and she was trying to get it under control as she argued back, "you were never there for anything; Christmas, Thanksgiving, birthdays, you weren't even there when he was behind in rent! You were never involved and you never tried to be. So do everyone a fucking favor and stop pretending like you care." She gave him a shove to get him off her arm and away from her before she turned and stormed away.

"Isobel, don't you walk away from me-"

"Don't talk to me like you're my father! He was ten times the man and guardian you'd ever dream to be," her voice had cracked as she glared up at the man that was the mirror image of her father before storming away and heading back home as she cried. Altair sighed as he watched run her off and then went to go speak with the principal to hopefully clear up Isobel's expulsion.

Isobel returned home alone, and just as Altair had said the previous night, Altair did not return home. She was left to her own devices, which at first consisted of her angrily hating her Uncle. But as she gazed upon the picture of her father, she had taken the frame and threw it against the wall with a roar of anger. And after that one act, Isobel simply lost it as she destroyed her room, yelling in pure rage. Isobel had never felt such anger before; she wanted the world to burn and consume her. There was a ringing in her ear that made her deaf, redness in her vision that made her blind, and a burn in her throat that made her mute though she would later realize the latter was due to her screaming. She broke trophies, threw books and clothes, and destroyed more photographs of her and her father. Only when there was nothing more to destroy did she fall to her knees, breathing heavily and looking at the mess. Her gaze landed on a picture of her and her father; him hugging her from behind and smiling at the person taking a picture of them. That burn in her throat grew, forming a lump as she let out a whimper at the image. The redness faded into just a blur as tears fell from her eyes. And the ringing was swallowed by sobs as she lay in her destroyed room, rocking herself, holding her stomach tightly as she sobbed. "Daddy," she suddenly forced out, saying that one word hurt her more than anything. She had no single word to describe the single amount of pain that came with that one simple title, but it felt as though someone had cut open her stomach, began to choke her, ripped out her heart, and gauged her eyes all at once while screaming in her mind. The grief and despair she had swallowed since she had found her father on the living room floor hit her like a train, almost as hard as the rage but Isobel wished nothing more than to go back to the rage – at the least her anger had been sated with destroying her room, she could find something else to destroy, she was certain.

But what could stop this grief? Late into the night she continued to cry, howling in pain and sounding more like a hurt animal than anything else, the only time she grew silent was when it hurt too much to sob and even then her body shook silently with sobs that made no noise other than soft gasps.

When Thursday came, Isobel locked her door in case Altair came home though he told her he wouldn't be. She had no clue if he had cleared up school or not, but she wasn't going even if he was there. She ran a warm shower and sat in the tub as the spray hit her. She stayed there, staring at the drain and wishing that if she stayed in the water long enough that she might slowly dissolve into water herself and slip into the drain and be mixed with filth and disappear forever.

Her entire body ached and she felt like she had a head cold with her sore, puffy eyes, sore throat, and runny nose. But she still patiently cleaned her room, being careful of any glass and placed the pictures on her desk until they could be re-framed. After that she curled up on her bed, staring at the wall as tears just slid from her eyes, burning them before making an acid trail slide down her cheek and throat…but she couldn't be bothered to wipe them away or even try to stop them from falling. Her phone buzzed in her night stand, she didn't answer it at all, not caring if it was Altair or Ezio. If it was Ezio then he had to learn that she was no longer apart of his life anymore. If it was Altair than he was nothing to her and she couldn't be bothered to speak with someone that she hated so much. But even as she thought that way, an ache settled in her already torn and broken heart. "Ow," she whimpered softly to herself, holding her chest as though to ease it, but no relief came.

"_Why can't I go? I'm almost fourteen, you can't keep locked up in some bubble," Isobel yelled at her father, Desmond looked panicked as he frantically dressed and looked for his shoes._

"_Isobel, we're not having this discussion again," Desmond glared at her, "you are _only_ fourteen years old! You are not going to a rock concert by yourself."_

"_I wouldn't be by myself," Isobel said, throwing up her hands in exasperation; furious that her father couldn't quite see her side of things. He had never denied her before, and now he was going to deny her a rite of passage during her freshman year? "Emma will be there, and so will everyone from school."_

"_That's reassuring," Desmond said sarcastically, "I wasn't born yesterday – you know what happens at these parties? Underage drinking, that's not something to mess with either, Isobel."_

_Isobel let out a growl of annoyance, "you're the worst dad ever! You're going to make me the biggest loser in school!"_

"_You may be the biggest loser, but at least I know you're safe," Desmond shouted after her._

"_I hate you," Isobel yelled back in return, shutting and locking her door. She had grabbed her phone and told Emma the bad news. Just as she heard her father shut the door and head off to work, Emma appeared outside of her apartment building complex and told her to get into the car. "No way, my dad would kill me if he found out," Isobel scowled._

"_Well it's a good thing he won't, I'll have you back before daddy is home – promise."_

Hazel eyes snapped open as she stiffened in the darkness, she listened intently but heard nothing, but something was off. Isobel held her breath for a moment, listening to the silence that rang in her ear and attempting to look through the darkness of her room, with only the moonlight to help her see. Nothing was in her room…it was the living room. She pushed off the covers and moved down the hall, hoping to get rid of the feeling that was weighing heavily in the pit of her stomach.


	4. Altair

**Thank you for the reviews! Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated – for grammar or style of writing. If you feel a put too much detail or not enough detail into something (emotions, what the character is doing, dialogue isn't life-like) please just let me know and I shall work on it.**

**I appreciate all and any feedback! Enjoy!**

Altair watched her go, he wanted to be angry with her but he knew her words to be true – he had never been there for her. He had been there for his brother when he was a part of the company, and when Desmond explained he wanted to leave the brotherhood, Altair had supported him and even spoke with the council of leaders to smooth such over. He had tried to be there during his brother's hard times as well, he sent money plenty of times, only for his checks to be returned to him; Altair couldn't help someone that didn't want to be helped. But he understood why his younger brother hadn't wanted to be helped as well, he had been able to get a job as a bartender and enjoyed it very much. He always got Christmas cards of him and Altair's niece, birthday cards, and Altair always sent money for the pair that Desmond put into a fund.

_Money doesn't replace presence,_ he had thought as he turned and re-entered the school to speak with the principal. The parent's left, the father getting in Altair's face and pointing a pale finger in his face, "you are lucky that we aren't going to sue! Get your daughter under control." And with that he left, putting a hand on the lower back of his daughter who was still sniffiling and holding an ice pack to her eye.

"Mr. Miles, please sit," Altair didn't correct the principal with his last name, Desmond and Altair had different fathers, same mother, giving them different names and their exotic looks. He took a seat calmly and waited expectantly, "I hope you realize just how much I have stuck my neck out for you and your daughter considering how much money you have given on top of the tuition fees to keep your daughter's records private, with no questions asked."

"I appreciate it," Altair stated calmly before going on, "she's usually a sweet girl, Mr. Gilland, I don't understand what came over her."

"Regardless of how she acts, I can't simply ignore her bullying someone," the principal sighed, "she shall be suspended for the rest of the week, and that is a generous suspension considering expulsion was what the father was demanding."

Altair nodded his head, "the move hasn't been easy for her. Maybe we rushed her into school."

He nodded his head understandingly before saying, "Maybe. Figure it out. I shall still allow her to join after winter break if that is what you desire."

After thanking the principal, Altair had rose and left, he had to return to his job considering he got called out of a meeting and was forced to leave. He walked calmly into his office, unbuttoning the top button of his shirt uncomfortably as he entered the elevator. As he arrived onto his floor, he had barely stepped off the elevator before his friends had attacked him, "Ah and daddy returns, daughter forget her lunch box?" The group howled and Altair chucked his briefcase at them, one caught it and only made the jackals laugh harder.

"Share the assignment, what did I miss from the meeting," Altair demanded, instead of being given a verbal response, he was handed a report. He took it without word and immediately began reading, "so we have been given our target then…a man named Zeds, some sort of mafia leader. Since when do we get involved in mafias?"

"Since they mysteriously start getting advanced weaponry and technology – they have a supplier," said the one that had mocked him before, growing serious, "out of nowhere these scrubs go from shooting pistols, robbing gas stations, and selling marijuana to shooting machine guns only distributed through the military, robbing the most secured banks and diamond stores, and human trafficking."

Altair twisted his face, "no one thought to check the military bases first?"

"Don't think us so small minded, Altair," another said, he was sitting on the desk, spinning a basketball in his hands, "we've already checked any and all military personnel – found some dirty shit, but most are clean. Plus, it is not our military from which they are getting these weapons; they're foreign."

"Why not go for the leader, why waste our time going for some petty mob," Altair questioned as he flipped through the report.

The first responded once more, "To send them a warning – we haven't been in an outright war with the Templars since the desert. If he doesn't listen, then we shall go for bigger fish."

"Then it shall be done, when do we leave," Altair asked, returning the report back to the order it belonged and setting it on a desk, shrugging out of his suit jacket and folding it onto his own desk chair which was never used.

"2200, until then, basketball?"

Altair hated how lax the company was on assassinations, he too didn't think too much about the assassinations once. That all changed with his own mistakes, killing Malik's brother and one of his friends, Kadar, and almost losing Malik. The year that had followed after his fatal mistake was torture for Altair, though he would never complain compared to the torture that Malik must have suffered through that same year. But now as he sat in the car with one of his comrades getting high, and the other one cracking jokes about whores and sluts, Altair couldn't help but be disgusted at the memory of him being right there with them.

"Come on, Altair, lighten up, what's wrong with you," one paused in his laughing at the jokes to ask.

"I'm just worried about my niece, I didn't get to walk her home. I know she's there, but I'd feel a lot better if I could see her," admitted Altair.

Immediately the pussy jokes started up and Altair was whacked on the back of his head. A couple years ago he would laugh, fight, or insult back – now he merely sat silently as he thought of Isobel's words and only wished that she was safe at home and doing better. He wanted to apologize for his absence, years ago he would only continue to be angry with her, but he wanted to know the young girl that Desmond spoke about. The one that looked exactly like his brother and had a laugh that made everyone grin in return, the girl that was sweet and loved all, though could be stubborn and have a mouth on her.

The vehicle came to a halt, telling the group of five that they had arrived to their destination, "Move silently, speak softly," Altair instructed as he opened up the back and pulled down his hood to make certain his features were hidden. Immediately he pulled on gloves and ran up the side of the wall, pushing his fingers against the wall to get leverage. The gloves having a fiber of tiny, microscopic hairs that clung to anything and everything, giving Altair and his comrades a nice, fine grip. The group of four scaled the wall with ease, Altair making it up first and peering over the edge in search of guards. Seeing none, he pulled himself over and then helped the others. Collins, the gentleman that had been getting high in the back, had the equipment bag. Altair helped him heave that over and distribute weapons. Assassin work didn't progress much further; all favoring the silent and deadly weapons of a pistol with a silencer, throwing knives, and a hidden blade. But they all knew that the Templars didn't hold such a theory and came prepared in case heavier fire was needed.

The plan was already briefed between the group, presented before the council whom gave them their target, and then set into motion immediately. Shaun was in the van, working on the opportune moment to shut down on the power and set the place on lock down. Once that was done, they had fifeteen minutes before the back up generator and police arrived to understand what had gone on. Plenty of time for the four assassins to make it through Zed's cronies and make it to him and kill him.

Altair took a deep breath as Collins picked the lock to the front quickly. Once in, he pushed open the door and the group rushed in quickly, making it down the stairs and taking out any guards with ease that might impede their assassination. Sure enough, as they went up levels, Altair moving swiftly and with the group like a silent, well oiled, deadly machine, Shaun suddenly cut the power. Altair moved with the four around him with little communication, by the slight tense of a body, he knew when someone was going to halt in their movements or charge in for a kill. He knew when someone wanted Altair to charge forward and take a kill or when a back needed to be covered. The body language that all four seemed to speak was remarkable, making them seem all that more deadly yet beautiful as well.

They scaled up the elevator shaft, their guardian angel (Shaun) opened the doors for them the moment they reached the top and they tumbled inside and moved quickly. Altair dropped a smoke bomb, two of his comrades pounced on both guards by the elevator and slammed their knives into the guard's throats. The last leaped over Altair, shooting at a man who started opening fire at the smoke, throwing his blade at Zed's hand which had went for his gun, the blade slamming into the flesh and making Zed scream in pain.

"Assassin scum," he roared, pulling out the knife and cradeling his hand weakly.

Collins, kicked the chair out from under Zed, his head slammed onto the desk and Altair clamped a hand down, taking a blade and digging it into his skull, "who is your supplier?"

"Why should I tell you? I am dead either way," he yelled.

"And if we promise you life," Altair questioned.

"I'd still be Zed – Sable will not have a traitor among his ranks, he'll assume it's me and dispose of me as he had the last mafia leader," Zed said, letting out a yell as the knife dug deeper.

Altair tensed, "Sable is behind this?" Silence answered Altair and he cut off one of the man's fingers making him howl in pain, "answer me or I shall make this death far more painful than even Sable!" And to make sure his point was known he stabbed one of his eyes making the man give a sickening cry that squealed into a wail of complete torment.

"Fuck you," he cried, withering underneath Altair.

"Last chance, who is your supplier," Altair demanded, this time digging into the other side of his skull making him give whimpers.

He swallowed thickly and Altair leaned in, eagerly hoping that the man would cave, "Go to Hell, assassin scum."

With that he let out a sigh, removing the blade and putting his hands on his neck. He felt the man's heart beat flutter in relief in confusion, Altair could practically read Zed's mind; was he going to get away? Had the assassin's cold heart melted at his cries? Altair felt a sickening feeling at such relief, that he had caused such pain and then such relief in an instant. And he was about to kill him too. His hands grasped firmly, and that's when he felt his heart skip a beat, much like his past victims. But Altair had grown not to hesitate as he jerked his neck at an awkward angle – the noise echoing in his mind, a sickening crack and the man was no more – just a simple shell of what he had been.

Altair looked down at the body, for a brief moment he saw his brother's body instead – he had not been there for the funeral nor during the murder, but something never set well with Altair. His younger brother, an assassin, killed by a burglary gone bad? Desmond had been terrible at hand to hand combat, but Altair had his doubts that Desmond didn't have a gun stored somewhere in his house. He felt sick as he stared into Zed's emotionless eyes, imagining them being an emotionless hazel rather than an empty brown, Desmond's eyes. He swallowed thickly, "set the place on fire."

They were out in ten minutes – a successful mission, the message had been sent.

"Want a ride home, Altair," offered Shuan, he pushed up his glasses as he finished changing into the business attire that he wore into the office.

"Sure," Altair said with a tired sigh, buttoning up his own shirt and shrugging into his suit jacket, "thanks, Shaun."

"No problem, one of the few times it's useful to have a vehicle in New York," he chuckled as he closed his locker and headed towards the exit, "I'll wait for you outside."

Altair appreciated the time to himself as he sat on the bench, hands dropping from the button he had been working on as he sighed tiredly. He hadn't been on an assignment in awhile, and still he missed Kadar, Malik, and even Desmond by his side rather than his random comrades. There was no body language for any of them, Altair merely knew their movements, knew their actions before they could even begin them – knew them so well that he could anticipate their actions and allow Altair to react quickly and effectively.

"How is your niece," Shuan asked when Altair finally left the locker room, zipping up his duffle bag and shrugging it up his shoulder as the duo headed for the elevator and the parking garage.

Altair gave him a look, "reporting to my own boyfriend?"

"I won't deny that I shall be relying information – I may be an assassin but my work is far different from eavesdropping and killing," Shuan threw up his hands in exasperation, "so tell me something that shall appease him so that he may stop blowing up my phone." Grumbled the sarcastic Britian as he messed with his cuffs.

Chuckling, Altair responded, "tell him I am handling things."

"Didn't I just say tell me something that would appease him," teased the Britain and Altair swatted at his head as he round Shuan's car to the passenger side.

As he arrived home, he could tell something was wrong. His door, which was usually open, was slightly ajar. The window curtains, which had been pulled closed were messed up. In the darkness he stood in the small doorway as he took careful steps forward, his steps padding softly down the entrance hall as he neared the kitchen. His hand reached for the light switch when suddenly- there was a 'whoosh' of air. Something was flying towards him, immediately he stuck his hand out, metal slapped against his hand but he flexed the rest of his arm to swallow the rest of the movement of the bat, his bat.

A cry was heard, and immediately Altair recognized it as Isobel. He tried to speak with her, pulling the bat free when suddenly an elbow collided with his jaw making him stumble away, she ran towards Altair's room but he moved quickly and grabbed her from behind, grabbing her arms which immediately flung backwards to attack her attacker. "Isobel, it's me," Altair grunted as she let out screams before going dead in his arms, not expecting the sudden weight, the pair dropped to the ground, but Altair didn't let up as he now knew that she believed herself to be attacked, "Isobel! It's me!"

Her movements stopped at his final shout, her heart was racing, pounding her blood through her body like a panicked rabbit. For a brief moment he saw Zed, blood covering his hands, but Altair squeezed his eyes shut and saw his niece once more and eased off of her, "what is wrong? Why are you awake?"

"Let me go," she whispered, trying to get back up.

"Speak to me – why did you believe me to be an attacker," Altair pressed, not letting her go.

"Let me go!"

"Let me in!"

"BECAUSE I'M ALWAYS SCARED," she suddenly yelled into the carpet and Altair froze at this.

He wanted to laugh a little at her declaration, but he knew that would make her lash out at him and retreat into the shell that he had just worked to get into, "what are you scared of? Why are you scared? Let me help you…please, Isobel, let me help."

Her shoulders and head shook gently before she spoke again, "I'm scared…I'm going to wake to a stranger above me or you. I'm scared I'm going to come home and see someone dead again," she whimpered and Altair finally let her up, his hold was far gentler on her as the two sat in the moonlight. Her eyes were puffy, Altair noted, she had already been crying earlier and guilt weighed his stomach. He pulled her into a hug and she let him, at first not returning it as she cried on his shoulder before finally wrapping her arms around his back in a weak embrace as she cried. She was mumbling something against him and Altair had to pull her away gently in order to understand her, "…I'm so sorry, Uncle, I don't hate you, please know that-"

"I know, I know, shh," Altair kissed her forehead but she kept going.

"I don't hate you, you have to know that, please," she begged, grabbing the front of his shirt, "I don't want you to die like him not knowing that." Her entire body shook with sobs.

It didn't take a genius for Altair to know who 'him' was and Altair's shoulders slackened, "honey, my brother knows that you loved him."

She shook her head as she cried, "I didn't get to tell him before he died! Uncle I miss him so much," her voice cracked and Altair had to hug her as his own heart broke at her pleads and she began to cry again. He rocked her as he felt a tear fall from his own eyes, but his voice was level as he responded, "I know, I miss him too, Isobel, so much." Altair held her gently as she continued to cry, she only quieted into sniffles and hiccups, and she quickly fell asleep against him, apparently tired. Altair picked her up gently, taking her into his room and laying her down and quickly changing into a pair of pants and a comfortable shirt. He then joined her in bed, wiping her face one last time and watching her sleep for a bit longer, snuggling into his side for warmth.

_I'm handling this._ Altair thought miserably as he pushed dark locks out of a beautiful face before relaxing.

Sleep wouldn't come easy to Altair like any other time he had gone on an assignment, but every time he woke he was content with listening to Isobel's breathing and soft snores. He wouldn't leave her side, unless he had to use the restroom or check on his phone, he'd let her sleep.

When she woke with a groan, Altair said nothing, worried that her anger might return to her as she massaged her own temple and looked towards him as though expecting her reaction to be a dream. He gazed back at her calmly, letting her make the first move to either continue being open towards him or to shut him back out. He would be fine with either, this day was a breaking point and Altair had hopes that this wouldn't be the last time that the two could mend their relationship. "My head hurts," she finally settled on saying, she looked to him expectantly.

"I'll grab you an aspirin," he assured, getting out of bed and going into the kitchen to get some water and a tablet, she followed, wrapping herself up in the blanket that was laid on the back of the couch and then sitting on the bar stool and taking the pill with the offered glass of water. "How did you know I had a bat in my room," Altair asked curiously.

"I didn't," she admitted once she had swallowed the pill and sipped back some water before continuing in a tired voice, "dad always had stuff lying around the house in case someone came in while I was home alone. I figured the habit wasn't just something he picked up and so went into your room and found the bat under your side of the bed."

Altair nodded his head, "remind me not to tell you where the gun is." It was a lame joke, but he still humored him by laughing before Altair turned to the fridge and grabbed a breakfast skillet and started up the stove. He wasn't the fancy cook between himself and Malik, so Malik had been certain to grab some easy, pre-cooked meals that merely needed to be re-heated when Altair had to cook. "You can fight," he stated.

He tensed a bit, waiting for some sort of insult or snide remark of how he would know that if he had been present in her life more, but instead she opted to say, "dad taught me a couple of things."

"Yeah…you seem to have an impressive right hook as well- when did that happen," Altair demanded as he grabbed her wrist and gently pulled her hand across the counter, a knuckle was split and her face was scratched slightly. Small scabs had formed where the person had cut skin.

"At school," she admitted as Altair examined her hand calmly, she sipped her water and only jerked her hand away when he pressed her knuckle gently to see how sore it was. She glared at him.

He turned back to breakfast, "do you want to talk about what happened at school?"

Purposefully he had worded his question that way, clearly he was telling her that only if she wanted to talk about the fight could she bring it up. Alatir would not press the matter, and when she answered with a sigh and a, "Not particularly." He merely nodded his head and finished making breakfast for the two and then scooped it up into a bowl and handed her some. The two ate slowly and in silence once more before she spoke again, "do you really miss him?"

Glancing at her, Altair nodded his head. Malik had been kind enough not to bring up his brother's death though said on occasion that he should speak with someone. Isobel spoke again, "he told me stories about the two of you."

"Yeah," Altair asked, leaning against the counter and prompting her to go on.

Nodding, she smiled as she said, "he told me of the time that you and him went to the creek behind your house, how you didn't know how to swim and so refused to get in." Altair smiled at that a bit as well, before she went on, "he also told me about the time that he had gotten sick and so you took care of him and you sat through watching Barney ten times in a row."

"I hate that purple dinosaur," Altair scowled and Isobel chuckled as she took another bite of the skillet.

This time the silence stretched until the two were finished eating, and as Altair rinsed out the dishes and added them to the pile that needed to be done (he used the soaking method too often and merely piled on dishes), Isobel finally spoke again: "why were you never there?"

Altair frowned, turning to her, "Believe it or not, I was…when you were very little, and even before then as well. My brother and I…took different paths though shortly after you were born, five to be exact. I was away on business when I heard that your father was leaving the company that we both worked for, but I couldn't just leave my assignment. I found him in Arizona, I took over babysitting you until he came home…and then I spoke with him about him leaving. After that I was merely always too busy to visit. I know it's not a good enough excuse, and I know that I can't make up that time that I wasn't there. But I love you Isobel like you were my own, and if my brother wanted me to raise you, then I'll be damned if I don't fulfill his last wish."

There was a pause and Altair added, "and ask Malik, me confessing love is not an easy task." She smiled at this, before tilting her head slightly and laughing. A laugh that was contagious enough for Altair to smile and give a chuckle of his own.


End file.
